Chronicles of The One Eyed Goblin: The Marsh and The Lake
by TheOneEyedGoblin
Summary: The Chronicles of The One Eyed Goblin are a series of vignettes which grant a glimpse into the life of "ordinary" witches and wizards. Criminals, Ministry workers, lovers, hunters, potion makers, artists, officers of the law, shop owners, the misguided, the foolish,and the hopeful all congregate to share their dreams, fears and anxieties.


The One Eyed Goblin was an unusual pub, it had been in St. Stephens Road for as long as anyone could remember, but even the most enthusiastic of London's history buffs would be hard pressed to find any records of when it was first established or, to the astonishment of many civil servants, who even currently owned it.

Many young and naive government workers would become curious about it, and figuring out that shutting down an irregular establishment would be a feather in their cap, would start investigating, become increasingly frustrated when they couldn't find any records of it and finally decide to visit it themselves to get some answers.

It was at this point that they suddenly lost all interest, coming back to their office on the next day and, when questioned by their peers about their visit, would say that the One Eyed Goblin was actually a private residence that just so happened to have a sign that could not be removed due to its historical significance.

They also happily related that this had been explained to them by a kind old lady who was dressed in a long robe, smelt faintly of peppermints and had served them one of the best cups of tea they'd had in their life. No one ever checked the records to see if this was actually an historical site, but then again it was a really good cup of tea.

Of course, if anyone had taken an interest in keeping track of these visits they would have been astounded to discover that this lady had been serving a damn good cup of tea since 1710.

Sibelius disliked tea and preferred strong black coffee, no sugar and no milk, like the one his beloved avô use to serve him when we was a young lad. "You're no longer a baby, so you don't need any more milk" his grandmother would say, and with this assurance he fed Sibelius on a steady diet of rice, beans, cassava, bacalhau and chicken.

When Sibelius told this story to people they would think to themselves that his grandmother's cooking must have been particularly hearty and dedicated to keep him on three meals a day, for Sibelius towered above most people and had trouble getting through doors without shifting his massive bull like shoulders.

These same shoulders were now in the process of shifting through the entrance of The One Eyed Goblin. Its most frequent patrons described The One Eyed Goblin, or The Gob as most of them called it, as having character, but most people would describe it as being not filthy, but not clean either. It possessed that healthy patina of smoke, ale and dust that can only exist in a pub that knows it has already won its clients and needs to no longer seduce them as long as it remains essentially the same.

Sibelius did a quick survey of the bar's patrons, nodded his head at a few of them, some were friendly nods, others cautionary nods. Finally finding the table he was interested in, Sibelius waved his hand at its occupants, made his way to the bar, ordered his usual two pints of ale and proceeded to sit down among greetings, slaps in the back and two pecks on the cheek.

Taking a good gulp from his massive glass, Sibelius took a moment to study his companions. At his left, wrapped in a long tan duster that contained an infinity of pockets, each one holding increasingly nasty surprises, sat Almena.

Almena was a woman that as a little girl would have been described as feisty, when a teenager as rebellious and as an adult, well, as something you better keep to yourself, lest she hear you. She didn't have a temper as so much a fire in her belly, which was held in a petite but muscly body. Not to say she wasn't attractive, with a pretty button nose, big hazel eyes and raven-black hair which she always wore in a tight bun, but the effect was somewhat ruined by the fierce and determined expression that always hung upon her face. Nonetheless, Sibelius liked and admired her, and knew her to be at the top of the profession.

To his right, already immersed in a cloud of pipe smoke, Rasvan was intensely studying a set of parchments, written in a particularly blocky squarish script, runes, Sibelius guessed. Spare and tall, with an easy smile that reached all the way to his grey eyes, Rasvan was the man mothers warned daughters about. And if it wasn't for a missing chunk of his left ear, Rasvan could be confused with royalty and if not,he at least dressed the part, wearing pin-stripped trousers, a silk shirt and a magnificent dark blue robe. Many would dismiss Rasvan as foppish, but Sibelius knew he was supremely smart and one of the best duelers there was.

Being unable to contain his curiosity, Sibelius asked, "So, what do you have there Rasvan?", Rasvan briefly looked up as if snapping from a trance,"Nothing, yet.", he said,"These are just some records of transactions done by a certain shop, if I'm right, they are dodgy records and I will have the owner's guts for garters."

Sibelius took another look at the scrolls, but he had never studied rune reading and therefore wasn't able to understand the peculiar script."When you say dodgy, what do you mean?", Rasvan looked up again, resigned himself of getting anything more done, folded up the parchments and took a moment to gather his thoughts.

"The owner of this shop is moving a high volume of newt's eyes, which is of course common enough, it's used in many potions, even young students use it. What is peculiar is the fact that he charges absurd prices for it and claims that it's because his are specially bred Norwegian newts and their eyes lend an extra potency to potions... I believe that he's lying, I got a tip that what he's actually moving are...", Rasvan paused as he looked at the enthralled faces of Sibelius and Almena who had suddenly become interested,"Pixie eyes!", he exclaimed,"And he's hiding the earnings in his so called 'Norwegian' newts!"

Rather than elicit the expected gasp of surprise, Sibelius and Almena looked at him sceptically, Almena was the first to break the silence,"Mate, I'm sorry to tell you, but Pixies shrivel when they die, their magic leaves them, they're pretty much useless as ingredients." Rasvan paused for a moment, his eyebrows knitting in confusion, then his eyes twinkled as he dispensed his last bit of information,"You're quite right my little hazelnut.", Almena straightened in her chair, Rasvan enjoyed getting a rise out of Almena, he prided himself in being the only one who could call her pet-names and survive,"However, there is a way to get the eyes from pixies without them shriveling... you can take them out while they are alive...", as soon as Rasvan said this, he looked down, his grey eyes losing some of their shine, as if suddenly realizing what he had just said.

Now Sibelius understood, like Rasvan, he also had a deep love and respect for magical creatures, and they both had spent long hours discussing the creatures of their respective homelands, each one completely fascinated by the other's experiences. Rasvan had always been impressed by how well treated creatures were in Sibelius's home, and both got particularly invested in anything that had to do with their abuse.

"Scum," Almena said, while doing one of her most impressive sneers, "pure scum. Don't worry Rasvan, we'll get him. I have a mate in the Accounting Department, I'll have a talk with him." This show of allegiance seemed to bolster Rasvan's spirits a little and he turned towards Sibelius, "So, why did you want us to meet outside the office?"

Sibelius suddenly remembered why he had summoned his colleagues,"I have a wee logistical problem and would like your opinion on it. I came across some information and don't know what to with it."

Both his friends leaned in closer, Rasvan putting his chin on his fist and Almena inching her chair closer.

"Do you know who the the Lestrange family is?", both heads emphatically assented, "I'm sorry, I had heard the name before but not until I found this did I do some research on them. From what I can gather, they were an old family who followed the blood purity creed quite strictly. And had such an involvement in the Dark Arts that some of the most dangerous volumes and experiments were either carried out or sponsored by its members, am I correct so far?"

"Spoken like a true scholar of magic history," said Rasvan smirking.

"Good to hear, had to plough through several volumes to come up with a condensed version. Now, through their fanaticism and inbreeding, they basically bred themselves into extinction. Their last recorded member died during the Second Wizarding War, and she wasn't even an actual blood member, she married into the family. When she died, the family fortune was left without an heir. The Ministry tried to seize it, saying that it contained dangerous dark artifacts, but Gringotts has an iron clad policy of waiting 100 years before declaring the vault abandoned and even then, they will only allow the Ministry to take away any forbidden objects, and they are going to do it as a gesture, technically speaking they could keep everything and the law would be on their side."

Almena tilted her head to one side,"Sibelius, it's nice to know you have learned so much about wizarding banking law, but what does this have to do with us?". "Patience," said Sibelius,"I'm getting there. Last week, I caught up with Bierus, you know him?".

Almena threw her head back, "HA! Know him? I've detained that particular weasel so many times that I don't even need to pull out my wand anymore, he sees me and he immediately drops whatever he's carrying, gets on his knees and raises his hands!".

Rasvan stopped sipping his ale, lit up one of his most dazzling smiles and turned towards Almena,"Ahhhh! Our little hazelnut, men just prostrate themselves, bewitched by her charms, Veela bow to her as a master enchantress." Almena gave Rasvan her toothiest smile,"Count yourself lucky Rasvan, that I have yet to use my charms on you."

Sibelius stifled a laugh as Rasvan opened his eyes wide at the unusual comeback, and fearing an even bolder retort from Rasvan, he interjected,"Right, so you do know him."

His friends, once more turned towards him and nodded.

"Good, then you know he's an opportunist, a two-knut scammer, not actually dangerous. His latest scam involves travelling abroad and bringing back 'lost' scrolls which he commissions to be written in obscure languages and then sells them, mostly to dumb students, as lost dark knowledge. The victims, if one can call them that, then go off and get the scrolls translated, just to find out they contain basic spells or potions, rarely they might contain actual jinxes or hexes, but they're usually quite simple, bordering on nasty pranks mostly."

"Unfortunately, one of the scrolls he sold contained a rather nasty transfiguration spell to turn someone's appendages into bundles of poisonous snakes. Some stupid young thing decided to use it on one of his colleagues as a revenge for some petty slight and ended up sending the poor girl to St. Mungo's. When they questioned him, he confessed to buying the scroll from someone matching Bierus's description. They called me in to help, fearing that Bierus had finally gone off the deep end and was now dangerous. We caught him as he mounted his broom with a satchel filled with these scrolls."

"Now, this is where it starts to get weird, much unlike himself, Bierus put up a damn good fight, stunned two people before we could subdue him."

Almena narrowed her eyes and tilted her head in confusion,"Bierus? The same man who used to sell bad chocolate that turned people's tongues green? And when he was caught tried to eat the evidence and ended making himself completely green for a month?"

"The same," said Sibelius,"less green, more desperate. And that's not all." Almena's expression became heavy and slowly turned toward Sibelius, crossing her arms as she usually did when something required concentration.

"After the arrest, I searched the satchel Bierus was carrying, and apart from the scrolls I found a book. Unlike the scrolls, this one was written in English, archaic English, but the book was clearly recent, it was printed rather than scribed, not more than 70 or so years old. The title was 'The Marsh and the Lake'."

At hearing this Rasvan lowered his fist, and in barely a whisper said, "No. it can't be," shaking his head, "surely no one is that misguided." Sibelius placed his mallet-sized hand on Rasvan's shoulder,"Rasvan, I had it authenticated, it's not forged or distorted, as far as the Ministry's scribes can guess it's complete copy."

Almena looked from one to the other, her face a mask of confusion,"One of you better start explaining, this is getting ridiculous! What does this have to do with Bierus? Or the Lestrange family for that matter?".

Rasvan brushed Sibelius's hand away,"Almena, 'The Marsh and the Lake' is a tome written in early medieval times. It's a work of philosophy, as much as you can call madness and cruelty a form of philosophy, it's the book that first set out the beliefs of the so called pure-blooded. It describes the rules of who can and can't be called 'pure' and what should be done with those that don't qualify as such, those that would contaminate the pure lake of Wizardry and turn into a polluted marsh. But, more importantly, it's also a spell book, supposedly containing spells that allow the caster to detect who is and isn't pure blooded and also how to target his blood relations. Some scholars believe that it contains the first versions of what one day would become the crucio curse. It's a forbidden tome, there are very few copies left, most have been either burned or are kept in the Ministry's vault under heavy-guard."

Almena leaned back on her chair,"Merlin's beard...",Rasvan threw his head back, "HA! Merlin's beard is right, he was the one who banned it in the first place! That book has been a beacon for some of the most depraved dark wizards, some of the old families used to keep a copy as a twisted form of pride, of defiance."

"I'm sorry," said Sibelius,"I needed you to know all of this, for you to make sense of what I'm about to tell you."

A mantle of grey settled on the table,all gaiety had banished, as both companions turned to Sibelius for the final part of the story.

"After arresting Bierus, I interrogated him about the book, it was impossible to get anything out of him, he wandered between bouts of crying and ranting, proclaiming his innocence. After giving him a draught to calm him down, he could barely tell me anything, but when I reminded him that forbidden books is a sentence straight to Azkaban, he finally managed to give me bits and pieces."

"Bierus says that he has been purchasing this scrolls in the north, from a young man, who speaks in heavily accented English,is always wearing dark formal robes and a massive scarf around his face. In exchange for a cheap price on the scrolls, Bierus had to also deliver packages at a specific time and place, never directly to anyone, but rather placing them in specific spots, behind a bin, tucked inside a boot, with a simple concealing spell placed on it. He never met whoever was the intended recipient,until two weeks ago."

"He ran into some trouble while flying into Aberdeen and arrived late to the delivery point, an abandoned building near the docks. While delivering the package, he noticed two men who were standing near the dock entrance who did not look like sailors, and as soon as he exited the docks, the two men started walking towards the delivery point. Bierus's curiosity got the best of him and he decided to follow them. When both men walked straight to the place where Bierus had hidden the package, he knew that the men were the ones for whom the package was intended."

"He could hear them arguing and was able to pick up a couple of phrases, the one he remembers the most was:'Lestrange is a fool to take such a risk sending this prior to him coming! And you're twice the fool for encouraging him!', but before the other man could reply, they were spooked by the sound of approaching sailors, one of them took out what Bierus swears was a wand, but his companion grabbed the wand bearer's hand and pushed him back towards the dock exit. When they left, Bierus retrieved the package, which had been opened, forgotten, and that's how he found the book. He admitted to recognizing the title because he had sold several fake copies throughout the years,for the same reason, he could tell this was authentic. That's when he admitted to panicking and taking the book. Then returning to London with the intention of procuring special ingredients for an Andalusean Fire potion to burn the book with."

"I'm even inclined to believe this last part, he was too scared to be lying at this point. After the interview was done, I put Bierus under guard and did all the research I explained to you before. My conclusion is that the person Bierus has been purchasing from, is coming here with an objective and is either an illegitimate child of the Lestrange's or a madman who thinks he is. Although the latter became less likely when I discovered that among the possessions that the Lestranges were said to have in their vault was a copy of the 'The Marsh and the Lake', supposedly the result of an illegal dark arts book printing business that they allegedly funded, nothing was proven of course."

Almena and Rasvan looked at each other in disbelief, the story was worth the long explanation. Sibelius took a gulp from his ale that would floor a normal man and finally laid the question that had brought him here,"What should I do? Everything I have is research, conjecture and very scared, very unreliable testimony. Should I bring this to the chief?"

Almena crossed her arms and Rasvan lit up his pipe. While they pondered what he had just asked, Sibelius returned to his ale and performed a quick survey. The crowd at The Gob had grown considerably larger, he recognized some faces, and started taking mental notes.

He saw the McMurdock lads were back, each with a couple of empty pints in front, several handsome companions and with one of them sporting a new scar, this was probably the aftermath of one of their poaching expeditions.

Mademoiselle Greau-Rosineauf was enjoying a cherry with a well-dressed gentleman. As far as Sibelius knew she only sold her 'Love & Devotion' potions to the most select clientèle now, so this was probably a stunt to show its effectiveness. Though with her continental charms, she hardly needed to try particularly hard to convince any man to have a drink with her, she usually had them at "Pardon, monsieur..."

And at the back he believed he spotted Cecil Afton, which was not an easy task, seeing as Afton was particularly short. "Half-Goblin" people had called him before, although those were usually their last words. Sibelius wondered for whom Afton was working now, he was a thug, but an expensive thug, only the very guilty or very wealthy employed him. Ironically, his last job had been escorting goblin merchants through Europe while they performed business transactions, most of these 'transactions' were probably done on behalf of the Ring of Ourmar.

Almena was the first to voice her opinion,"No, don't bring it to the chief, at least not at first."

"What do you mean Almena?", said Rasvan,"I think Sibelius has done a proper job of this, he should take it straight to the chief and ask permission to continue the investigation."

"I'm not saying he hasn't, Rasvan. But I believe, and I'm surprised you don't, that the chief will not react in the best way when he finds out that this involves the Lestrange family."

"That's precisely the reason he should go straight to him!", countered Rasvan,"The chief will get on his war-thestral and launch a full blown investigation, mind you, he will probably lead it himself."

Almena let out an exasperated sigh,"That's precisely why Rasvan! The chief will probably rush into it, you know he doesn't believe in being absent from danger. He has led more raids in person that any other Chief Auror in the history of the office. And for that matter, what happens if it's nothing? Then Sibelius won't be taken seriously anymore, they'll say he has become paranoid."

"Fine, then what should Sibelius do?", said Rasvan triumphantly, "If he can't bring it to the chief, to whom should he bring it to?"

"You and me will go over the evidence, help him organize it and then he can take it to Weasley."

"Weasley?! Really? How will that help? Might as well give to Chief Potter directly, Weasley will tell him anyway."

Now it was Almena who had a triumphant look on her face,"Precisely", she said,"Weasley knows the chief better than anyone, he will take one look at the case and know precisely how to tell him. Probably talk it over with his wife first, which is another advantage might I add."

As Almena finished, comprehension dawned on Rasvan,"You're a genius Almena. You're as smart as you're lovely."

Almena snorted and before she could make a comeback, Sibelius interrupted them,"Rasvan is right, you're genius. We can go over the evidence at my flat tomorrow, I'll cook you some bolinhos de bacalhau as a thank you."

"Ahhh, this is what I like," said Almena with a toothy smile,"concrete rewards, so much better than flattery."

Both Rasvan and Sibelius laughed, ordered another round, and settled again to further discuss the matter while the chaos, warmth and din of the "The One Eyed Goblin" enveloped them.


End file.
